


Happenstance

by sambethe



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captain Swan Secret Valentine 2017, F/M, Sharing a Bed, Travel Escapism, of a sort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-09-25 09:08:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9812612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sambethe/pseuds/sambethe
Summary: He was just trying to escape everything. She wasn’t part of his plan.





	

**Author's Note:**

> For @killiarious for CSSV 2017. Prompt from @tnlph.

He should thank Liam, he knew it. He wouldn’t need to leave the flat, minus the initial trip to the market, for days. There were enough books, along with wine and rum, to last him for weeks. And the view, Killian still wasn’t sure there were words.

_Good god, brother. The pictures you sent weren’t enough._

_I know. Don’t skulk your entire stay. The city is better up close._

Killian rolled his eyes. He was almost grateful when he found out his brother would be out of town when he sent his plea for a place to crash. He needed to be away from Tink, away from town, their apartment. From everything, really. And while he hadn’t seen Liam since his transfer to Istanbul, the prospect of the judgement in his eyes, even as he would welcome him in, was more than Killian thought he could bear.

Liam sent him instructions on where he could pick up a set of keys and a warning that he promised a friend a place to stay later in the week while she was in town for a job.

_And stay as long as you like, little brother. I’m due home in a couple weeks._

Liam had been vague and dismissive when he’d asked about who the house guest was, and Killian chose not to think too much of it as he stripped out of his clothes and swapped them for a pair of sweats and a battered, old t-shirt and spent the next few days padding barefoot from the guest room to the kitchen to the couch. He dumped his phone in his bag at some point, leaving the battery to drain, and kept his nose buried in the pile of books he’d pulled from the shelves Liam had lining one full wall of the flat.

He curled his feet beneath one of the throw blankets he’d found and peered over his book’s pages to eye the shelves again. A pang of jealousy flared in his chest. Killian hadn’t had a flat of his own, not since Milah’s death. After her, he’d packed up most of their things and dumped them in storage, choosing to spend most nights out on his sailboat or with a friend. Moving in with Tink hadn’t been something he planned, not really. It was a pattern - a habit born of circumstance -  they sort fell into, and his tacit refusal to bring anything of his own to unpack had been the source of more than one argument.

He hadn’t thought he missed it, but here surrounded by all of Liam’s things, he could admit the appeal.

*

By day four of his stay he’d nearly forgotten about Liam’s promised house guest. It wasn’t until he stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist that he heard footsteps echo beyond the bathroom. Realizing he hadn’t brought any clothes with him to change into, he shrugged and ran his hand through his damp hair. The flat was mostly open concept with Liam’s bedroom lofted above. The only spaces walled off were the bathroom and the small guest room he was using, so they’d have to get used to one another anyway.

That said, he wasn’t prepared for her. At all.

She was slim and blonde, loose curls falling over her shoulders and dressed in tight jeans and heeled boots with a black blazer that almost dwarfed her frame. She arched an eyebrow and gave his chest a once over as she leant against the dining table and watched him walk into the living room, a coffee cup raised to her lips. He offered her a grin and a raised eyebrow of his own before she frowned and settled the mug on the table.

“You’re Killian, huh?” she asked, turning to her attention to her phone. Before he could answer, she was walking around the table and pulling something from the kitchen shelves.

He nodded, despite knowing she couldn’t see him, and leant back to prop himself against the couch as she poured some cereal into a bowl.

“I guess I’m taking Liam’s room since your stuff is all over the guest room?”

“Aye, if you don’t mind, love.” He crossed his ankles and continued to watch her steadfastly ignore him, enjoying the way the red on her cheeks had started to spread down her chest.

She glanced up and narrowed her eyes at him. “Not your love, and it’s fine. I won’t be here much anyway.”

He knew he should stop. He should duck into his room and throw on some clothes, but something about the set of her shoulders and the fact Liam had been cagey about details on her egged him on. “That’s a pity. Might be fun.”

A muttered ‘uh huh’ and a roll of her eyes were the only response she gave him as she dumped the bowl and spoon into the dishwasher and made her way to the loft stairs.

“Liam neglected to give me your name,” Killian called after her.

“Emma,” she said, not turning around.

*

_What are you playing at, brother?_

Killian stared at his screen, willing Liam to answer. He didn’t fail.

_Don’t even think about it. She’ll eat you alive._

*

True to her word, Killian barely saw Emma over the next two days. She was up and out before dawn, and when she returned at night she quickly retreated to Liam’s lofted room. The only sign she was there would be the occasional rustle of her blankets or her soft hum as she sang along to whatever she was listening to on her headphones.

So he was surprised when he emerged from his room on the third afternoon in just his pajama pants to find her sitting on the couch, her hair up in a bun, glasses on her face, and a book open in her lap.

He grunted a greeting and shuffled to the kitchen in search of coffee.

“Are you always shirtless?”

He grinned as he poured some beans into the grinder and grabbed the electric kettle to fill it. “Didn’t expect to find you here,” he replied once he set the water to boil and grabbed the Chemex from where he left it on the counter the day before. “You’ve made yourself scarce.”

“Yeah, well, my shoot for today was canceled, so I thought I’d take it easy.”

She fell quiet as Killian continued to make himself coffee. He watched her page through her book for a few minutes before she got up and wandered to the stereo, pulling a few records from the shelves. “You mind?” she asked, tipping her chin to the turntable.

He shook his head and she pulled a record from its sleeve and turned on Liam’s stereo system. She settled back down in the corner of the couch, burying herself in the nest of blankets she had dragged out from somewhere, and jealousy once again crept through his chest. There was no mistaking she knew her way around the flat and he wondered exactly who she was to Liam and why he hadn’t mentioned her before.

He didn’t recognize the music she put on, some sort of indie pap with male vocals that were nearly drowned out by the piano and strings, but it fit his mood. By the time he joined her on the couch, she had turned back to her book and seemed lost amongst its pages. So he picked up the one he’d been reading the night before and tucked himself into the other end of the couch.

He hadn’t got all that far into the chapter when he felt her staring at him. He looked up to find her eyeing the pile of books he had stacked on the end table next to him.

“Have you even left the apartment since I got here?” she asked.

He shook his head and finished off the remains of his coffee before getting up to pour himself another cup.

She tipped her head back against the back of the couch, her eyes following him as he walked away. “Have you been out in the city at all?”

“Does the market count?”

He could see her roll her eyes as she sat up.

“Go get dressed.”

“Pardon?”

“We’re going out. You can’t come to Istanbul and spend the entire time holed up in your brother’s apartment. That’s just sad.”

“I’m not –”

Her level stare cut him off.

“Fine. Am I permitted a shower first?”

“Can you get dressed when you’re done and not parade around in a towel?”

He grinned and stood up, resting his hand on the waist of his sleep pants as he rolled up on the balls of his feet. “I’ll see if I can manage.”

*

Killian had to begrudgingly admit Emma had a point. He hadn’t paid much attention during the taxi ride from the train station his first night. He had laid his head against the seat’s headrest and closed his eyes beneath his sunglasses while the city rushed, or more accurately crawled, past. Liam’s neighbor had helped him navigate the local market when Killian met him to get the keys, and he had mostly focused on gathering what he’d need rather than his surroundings, his determination to get enough so as to not leave the flat again driving him forward.

But now, walking through the streets with Emma, he could see through Emma’s eyes what drew Liam to stay here. She took in all the lights, the brightly painted doors, and the mass of people through the lens of her camera, a small smile on her face as she clicked away.

“You’re a photographer?” he asked as they made their way down a narrow street that more resembled an alley.

She bumped his hip with her own. “What did you think all the camera bags were for, Jones?”

He shrugged. “When you mentioned the photo shoot, I just assumed….”

Emma laughed and shook her head. “That I was a model?” She glanced up and focused her camera on one of the balconies above them. “I’ll take that as a compliment, but I prefer being on this side of the lens.”

They continued on, Emma stopping occasionally at street stalls, charming vendors and stuffing Killian with muscles, chestnuts, and some small sandwich filled with spiced meat and potatoes.

He eyed the contents. “Do I want to know what this is?” he asked, scrunching his eyebrows as he looked over to find her already half finished with hers.

She grinned and handed him a napkin. “Don’t ask questions, just enjoy.”

*

It was dark by the time they returned to the flat and Killian was happy to feel the day’s heat fade and a slight breeze begin to blow.

“Wine?” she asked, kicking off her shoes and padding over to the small wine fridge Liam kept in the corner of the kitchen.

He nodded and moved to open the balcony door, letting in the night air as she grabbed a bottle and poured two glasses.

He took the glass she offered him and sat on the couch. “So how do you know Liam?”

“I was an embed in his unit a few years back in Afghanistan. We stayed in touch.” She sat facing him, her legs crisscrossed and her knee close enough to brush his thigh.

“Tough job.”

She shrugged and took a sip of her wine. “I’m good at it.”

“I imagine. I saw how you were with those vendors, the one seemed more than smitten while handing over those extra stuffed muscles. The military boys wouldn’t stand a chance.”

She laughed, a full-throated thing that had her tossing back her head and Killian admired the way the movement made the low-light of the flat catch on her hair.

“Are you two….” He waved his hand in a non-committal gesture, unsure if his not finishing the question was a matter of not knowing how to frame it or not wanting to give it voice if the answer was yes.

Emma smiled and leaned forward, crowding into his space. “Are you asking if I am fucking your brother?”

“I suppose I am,” he replied, his hand falling to brush at her knee but not pushing further, already knowing they were pushing into awkward territory if the answer was yes.

Her hair fell forward, framing her face as she pushed closer and linked her fingers through his. “Are you saying you’re interested?” She looked up at him through her lashes, her tongue licking at her bottom lip.

Killian bit back a groan and reached to cup her face. “Just answer the question, love.”

She smiled a slow, sensual thing before pulling back to stand. “No, Jones, your brother has only ever been my friend.” She then made her way towards the stairs, opening her blouse as she did. When she reached the base she turned to him, allowing him a glance of the curve of her breast from her breastbone and the pink lace of her bra. He knew he must be gaping, resembling more the eager lad he had once been than the artful rake he’d been perfecting over the past few years, by the way her smile morphed into a smirk.

“You joining me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

*

Grey light was filtering through the windows when Killian woke. Emma was still asleep beside him, the slow rise and fall of her shoulder pulling his attention from the view of the city’s spires in the distance. He dropped his hand to her arm, drawing the backs of his knuckles along her soft skin. When she eventually stirred, he asked, “You working today?”

She shook her head and turned, slipping her knee between his legs and pressing a kiss to his chin. “Yesterday’s job was supposed to be two days long. I don’t have anywhere to be until tomorrow.”

Killian hummed and brought his hand up to tip her chin to him, his lips hovering just out of reach of hers. “Good.”

It was mid-morning by the time Emma prodded them into the shower and well past lunch by the time they actually managed to leave the flat. They spent the afternoon again walking through town, Emma navigating them through the crowded streets, guiding them through the market until they both grew tired. They eventually found themselves at a small, street side café where they sat and watched the passing crowd.

“Do gigs usually cancel on you?”

She frowned and turned her attention from her coffee to the camera on her lap, fiddling with the settings until she brought it up to her face and focused it on something over Killian’s shoulder. “Not ones that book me to fly out, no.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He swirled a sugar cube through the thick surface of his coffee but she kept her eyes on the camera’s display.

“Do you want to talk about why you’ve been holed up in your brother’s apartment hiding from the world?”

Killian shrugged and tipped his head back to stare up at the gathering clouds. “Found myself out too much, drinking too much, and living with a woman who I hadn’t meant to move in with. All of it seemed easier than facing a life without my wife, my Milah. Until suddenly it wasn’t.”

In his periphery he could see Emma drop her camera back to her lap and turned to face him.  “The art director for my shoot was the woman who had been sleeping with my boyfriend – my ex – for months before I found out. I didn’t know her name and somehow she hadn’t realized who I was when she booked me. Let’s just say her reaction when I showed up on set was memorable.”

He glanced over to her, offering a small, crooked smile. “We’re a right pair, aye, love?”

Emma laughed and picked up her coffee. “Apparently.”

*

Their walk back to the flat took longer than strictly necessary, Emma pulling him into an alcove of what looked to be a long abandoned building. He could feel his giddy teenage self once again bubble to the surface as their tongues wrapped around one another’s, and he gripped her ass to pull her closer to him as she moaned and ground against him. One hand drifted to the front of her jeans and he was sorely tempted to pop them open, to bring her off with his fingers right there, neighbors and passing strangers be damned.

But he stopped and let out a long breath.

“Let’s get back to the apartment,” she whispered before leaning back in and nipping at his lip.

He nodded and followed as she ducked back onto the street. Yet, they stopped twice more along the way back to Liam’s, heated glances and purposeful, teasing touches proving a distraction to their goal.

*

“When are you leaving?”

It was long past twilight and Killian stared out at the twinkling lights of the city as he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled Emma closer to his chest.

Her hand dropped to his arm, her fingers teasing at the hair there. “I’ve a job tomorrow, head out the next morning.”

“Where to?”

“Back to New York for a few days and then out to LA for a few weeks. Don’t remember what my agent booked after that.”

“Always this busy?”

She shrugged and reached back, drawing his leg up over hers. “Comes and goes. What are your plans?”

“Not sure,” he said, following her lead and hooking his foot at her ankle, using the leverage to draw her leg back to open her to him.

“Think I’ll stay here until Liam returns. We haven’t seen much of one another since he moved.”

She hummed and covered his hand with hers, gently coaxing him down between her thighs.  He smiled as he complied, kissing the back of her head. He stopped just out of reach and leaned in to ghost a kiss along her ear.

“May I take you to dinner tomorrow night?”

She turned her head to catch his eye as she reached up to thread her fingers in his hair. “I’d like that,” she said before giving a pointed roll of her hips.

*

Dinner turned into the two of them raiding Liam’s good stash of wine, which turned into the two of them panting against the back of the couch before eventually making it to the bedroom.

By the time Killian woke, though, Emma was already gone. A book of walking tours through Istanbul was on the bedside table with a note tucked beneath its front cover.

_Be well, Killian, and thank you._

*

By the time Liam returned Killian was still there and had made his way through half of those walking tours. And while he didn’t ask too many questions, Killian suspected Liam knew all that had transpired between him and Emma.

“Will you be staying, brother?” Liam asked him that night as he cleaned up their dishes from dinner.

Killian handed him the last of the pots and nodded. “For at least a while longer.”

Liam gave him a smile. “Good.”

*

Killian stood in the small flat his new job secured for him – one bedroom, blank, white walls, and a pile of cardboard boxes greeting him. It wasn’t much, but would do until he could find something on his own. When he upended his carry-on bag, dumping its contents on the couch, an envelope he didn’t remember packing fluttered to the top of the pile. Opening it, he found a brief note in Liam’s cramped handwriting.

_I’ve been holding this for a year, since that first night I returned to Istanbul. She said I should give you this when you were ready. I probably should have months ago, when you first mentioned looking for work in the States. Forgive me that I didn’t._

Below it was a string of numbers, the first few digits matching those of the mobile number work had provided for him so he’d have a Stateside number.

He didn’t hesitate in pulling said mobile from his pocket, typing out a brief message and hitting send.

_Hello, love._

The familiar, wanted three dots popped up almost immediately.

_Still not your love._ _:p_


End file.
